


suddenly, it'll cut you free

by rumpledlinen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledlinen/pseuds/rumpledlinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ah, well.” Liam closes his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “Lesson learned. No more wooing you over Twitter.”</p><p>Niall grins over at him.</p><p>Liam’s tummy does a funny warm thing, and he bites his lip, looking at the TV. “Wanna play, then?” he asks.</p><p>“Sure,” Niall says, in a small voice that Liam doesn’t know how to interpret. “Let’s play. But I’ll have you know, I’m no Louis. I win every time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	suddenly, it'll cut you free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazy_daze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_daze/gifts).



> so the prompt was for "MRS HORAN fic where Liam doesn't realize he's crushing on Niall until he suddenly /does/". i hope you like it! :) 
> 
> thanks to thistidalwave for all your help figuring this out. :)

It’s not until he changes his Twitter name to MRS HORAN that Niall actually acknowledges what Liam’s doing, which is probably for the best; he’s not running out of funny things to say, per se, he’s got plenty of material, but it’s around this point his mentions get pretty x-rated and he doesn’t want to do that.

Niall comes into his hotel room, holding his phone in one hand. He’s wearing a white vest, and his hair’s an absolute mess. “Really?”

Liam just grins. “Yep. Impersonate a fan day, Niall, come on.” He picks up his phone off the bed and pulls Niall close, grinning, trying to get a picture. He snaps a few, and Niall looks far too amused in most of them for it to be a fan picture. He’s giggling, looking at Liam’s phone over his shoulder.

“Come on,” Liam says. “Do a serious one, Niall, please.”

In the end, Niall looks vaguely amused and alarmed, which is exactly what Liam was going for. He posts it to Twitter and tosses his phone aside, grinning at Niall.

Niall’s giggling, in that helpless open-mouthed sort of way he doesn’t do that much anymore (with Liam, at least; he always seems perfectly happy to laugh at _Louis_ ’ jokes), staring at Liam. “Why?” he asks again.

“You weren’t answering me,” Liam says, shrugging. “Wanted to play FIFA or something.”

“And you didn’t want to play with Louis?”

“Nah,” Liam says with a grimace. “He always wins, or gets mad when he doesn’t. Anyway, think he’s out doing something with Zayn.”

Niall smiles, cautious, and sits down. “And you didn’t come to my room?”

“Nope.” He pops the p. “Figured it was easier to tweet a bunch until your phone annoyed you enough you came over here.”

Niall shakes his head. “Was in the shower, mate.” He’s still smiling, that slow infuriating thing he’s always doing around Liam.

“Ah, well.” Liam closes his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “Lesson learned. No more wooing you over Twitter.”

Niall grins over at him.

Liam’s tummy does a funny warm thing, and he bites his lip, looking at the TV. “Wanna play, then?” he asks.

“Sure,” Niall says, in a small voice that Liam doesn’t know how to interpret. “Let’s play. But I’ll have you know, I’m no Louis. I win every time.”

Liam laughs, shaking his head.

*

Niall falls asleep on his floor, a few hours later, and Liam shakes him awake.

Niall frowns, reaching out for him, and Liam doesn’t have the heart to take him all the way back to his room; he half-drags Niall to his bed. He turns around, ready to go sleep on the couch, but Niall’s got a hold of his shirt, and he’s tugging him down against the sheets.

They’re really, really comfortable. Shit. Seems like every hotel they’re at is better than the last.

He turns inward, and Niall’s asleep again, a small smile on his face. His fingers are still clutching the hem of Liam’s t-shirt.

Liam smiles down at him, and there’s that warm fond feeling in his stomach again before he lies down properly, closing his eyes. He’s asleep in minutes, matching his breathing to Niall’s.

*

“So what was the deal with the whole Twitter thing?” Zayn asks Liam, a few days later. They’re sat on the couch, Liam’s head in Zayn’s lap, watching some film Louis picked right before he fucked off.

Liam laughs, and he doesn’t have to ask which Twitter thing. “Thought it might be a laugh, y’know? Didn’t really think about it.”

“Yeah, but why _Niall_? Like, why not me?”

Liam raises an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?” he teases.

“No, fuck off. I’m just saying. Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d do with him, eh?”

“I suppose.” Liam shrugs. “He’d been so sad all day, wanted to make him feel better, I guess.”

“And you thought the way to do that was to profess your love for him on Twitter.”

“Well, why not?”

“Just. Doesn’t seem like you, mate.” Zayn’s looking at him like he had before Liam had whispered _so, you know, boys might be a thing I, uh_ , the way he had when Liam wouldn’t tell anyone about his past, when he was terrified they were going to lose and he’d have to spend another birthday alone.

Liam fucking hates that look. It makes him feel laid open, stretched bare, and it doesn’t make _sense_ because he’s not hiding anything, not this time. “I was just joking around.”

Zayn nods, and he strokes his fingers through Liam’s hair. “All right, love.”

Liam wrinkles his nose. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Why’d you ask, then?”

Zayn shrugs. “I’m an enigma,” he says in a flat voice.

Liam laughs, punching him gently in the arm. “Twat.”

“Oh, hush.”

Liam laughs a little. He rests his head on Zayn’s chest again, closes his eyes. “Used to fancy you, y’know.”

Zayn snorts, chest rumbling under Liam’s cheek. “Y’did?”

He nods. “Way back at the beginning. You were the only nice one. Well, you and Niall.”

Zayn’s fingers still in his hair. “Why didn’t you fancy Niall, then?”

Liam shrugs. “Dunno. Could’ve done, I s’pose. You were just--m’best mate. Seemed obvious to be into you.”

Zayn laughs, kissing the top of his head. “I assume that went away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Liam says, and that makes Zayn laugh. “Few months later. Woke up and realized I didn’t want to date you, much as I love you.” He looks up. “Sorry to have to break it to you.”

Zayn shrugs. “I suppose my ego’ll survive. Pez might be happy about it.”

Liam giggles.

“Did you ever fancy anyone else from the band, then?” Zayn asks in the careful way he does when he thinks he’s being subtle.

Liam sits up, sighing heavily. “All right, what’s this about, then? Did Lou put you up to this?”

“Lou didn’t do anything.”

“What’re you, like, interrogating me for?”

“Just having a conversation,” he says.

“You are literally the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

Zayn shrugs. “Fair enough.” He looks up at Liam. “D’you fancy Niall?”

Liam laughs. It’s kind of absurd to think about. “No,” he says, and then again, “no, god. Niall’s just my mate.”

Zayn looks supremely unimpressed. “If you say so.”

“I _do_.” Louis frowns. “God. Why? Is Niall freaked out or something?”

Zayn laughs. “Nah, wouldn’t say that.”

Liam groans. “Zayn.”

“Look. Just seemed a little different, okay? Like, not like you.” He shrugs. “Sorry, mate. You know y’can tell me, though, yeah?”

“I know.” Liam smiles, thin.

*

That night, Niall grins wide at him, and Liam’s stomach actually flips.

It’s not a new feeling, but--he catches Zayn’s eye, the Significant Look he sends his way, and oh. _Oh_. Not that different from Zayn, then.

He smiles back at Niall, but it must not be good enough because Niall frowns, looking concerned. Liam shakes his head, tight, and shouts something at the crowd, jumping up and down.

He doesn’t properly look at Niall for the rest of the show, doesn’t want his heart to start racing again.

Niall reaches out for him and Liam shrugs it off, keeps going. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

*

“Why’re all your lyrics so sad lately?” Louis asks, when they’re sitting in the hallway, notebook in each of their laps.

“Hmm?” Liam frowns, looking down at his notebook. Okay, most of them are about heartbreak, but, “I dunno. S’not personal.”

“All I’m saying’s, Liam, you sound like Harry.”

He sighs out, long. “Nothing’s wrong. Just. Have you noticed Niall being different lately?” He knows, as he’s saying it, that he’s being obvious but if he can’t trust Louis, well. He can’t really trust anyone.

Louis frowns, setting his notebook aside. “Different how?”

“He never talks to me anymore. Not really. And, like.” He pauses, trying to figure it out. “Feels like he’s mad at me but I don’t know what I’ve done.”

Louis leans his head back against the wall with a thunk, letting out a breath. “Dunno what to tell you, mate. He’s not been different with me.”

Liam sighs. “Is he mad at me, d’you think?”

“Why?”

Liam pulls his knees up to his chest, chewing on his thumbnail. “If I, like. Fancied him. And he noticed, d’you think he’d be mad?”

“Nah,” Louis says, and Liam’s so, so grateful he’s not making a big deal out of what he’s saying. “He’s never been one for getting mad like that, y’know?”

Which means it’s something different. Shit. “I’ve no idea, then.”

Louis takes a second. “Are you going to do something about your... feelings?”

He shakes his head. “Just gonna write shitty sad songs about it. Like Harry, apparently.”

Louis snorts, and kicks his leg, gentle. 

*

Liam’s in his room, ready to go to sleep (early, because he’s one of the most boring pop stars in the world), when there’s a knock at his door. He frowns, getting up, pulling on a pair of trackies over his boxers. “Yeah?”

“S’me, mate, open the fucking door!”

He laughs and opens it, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame. Niall’s grinning, wide, and it doesn’t look true but it’s better than Liam’s gotten in ages. “Louis fucked off, want to go out?” He sounds halfway to trashed, already, voice slurring.

Liam grins back at him. “Yeah, sure. Just let me get dressed.”

Niall makes an exaggerated pouting face and Liam rolls his eyes, letting him in. He throws on his clothes from earlier, and catches Niall watching him in the mirror. He swallows, hard, and fixes his hair. “Where are we going?”

“Haz told me about a place,” Niall says, and he looks Liam up and down, quick. “Y’look good. Let’s go.” He says it forcedly casually and Liam frowns, but follows.

*

It only takes a few shots for him to loosen up, laughing and going when Niall pulls him on the dance floor. Liam stands back and lets Niall do his thing, and he tries not to stare at the hollow of his neck, listen to the way his voice sounds when he leans in and asks if Liam wants another drink.

He shakes his head and lets Niall go to the bar, laughing when a girl pulls him in to dance. She’s pretty but when Niall gets back it’s like they’re magnetized, or something equally horribly cheesy, and Liam goes back to him, stealing a sip of his beer and ignoring Niall’s complaints. He hands it back, watching the way Niall’s still moving, even though he’s not focused on anything. 

God, he’s fucked. 

He starts flagging around two, and leans in, lips brushing against Niall’s neck. Shit, he can barely focus. “Want to get out of here?” he asks.

Niall laughs, and Liam hadn’t meant it as a come on, but god, now he’s thinking about it like he hasn’t let himself. He swallows. “You know what I meant.”

“I do,” Niall says, low, and so quick Liam’s not quite sure it happened, he leans up, kissing Liam’s neck. He laughs. “Fuck. Yeah, let’s go.” He grabs Liam’s hand, lacing their fingers together and leading him into the car. He presses up against Liam in the car, not letting go, smiling. 

Liam looks over at him. “What’re you smiling about?” He tries his hardest to keep his words clear. 

He shrugs. “S’been nice, yeah?”

“It has.”

“Should go out more. Just y’and me.” Niall keeps smiling, eyes falling shut. “Miss you.”

“I’m right here,” Liam says.

Niall sighs, slow, squeezing his knee. “I know.” He leans his head on Liam’s shoulder, breaths evening out. 

Liam gets him upstairs, arm tight around his waist. Niall smiles, nuzzling into the hollow of his throat, kissing light. “Love you, Li.”

“Love you, too,” Lim says, almost laughing. They get to Niall’s room and he hesitates; he should go back to his own but his thoughts are cloudy and he doesn’t want to spend the night alone. 

Niall makes the decision for him, anyway, pulling him inside. “Gotta keep an eye on me,” he says, nodding, eyes half shut. “I’m a menace when I’m drunk, Lou says.”

Liam smiles, slow, and nods. He kisses Niall’s forehead and they get into the bed, not bothering to take more than their shoes off.

“You’re not much better,” Niall slurs, sighing. He rests a hand on Liam’s chest. 

“Me? Not drunk,” he murmurs, squeezing Niall’s arm. 

“Danced like you were,” he sighs. 

Liam laughs, pressing another kiss to his neck. “Arsehole.”

Niall hums, shrugging. “You’re still here.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything, drifting off, still curled up with Niall.

*

He wakes up, and Niall’s sitting up, laptop in hand. He grins, wide, at Liam. Fucker never gets hangovers. 

Liam’s, for his part, is horrible. And he wasn’t even that drunk. He groans, leaning over the bed in an effort to get himself up. “Fuck off,” he says, preemptively.

Niall laughs. “Here.” He hands him a bottle of water. “Changed my mind. Never going out with just you again if this is what happens. Y’don’t appreciate me, Liam.”

Liam ignores him and drinks half the water, padding into the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror.

Least he didn’t kiss Niall. Points for him.

He throws up what feels like everything he’s ever eaten and goes back out, hand against his mouth. Niall’s sprawled out on the floor, in a pair of trackies and nothing else.

Liam pauses, frowning. His headache’s too bad to deal with any of Niall’s weird stuff. “Y’okay?”

Niall groans.

“All right.” Liam steps over him and grabs the bottle of paracetamol, swallowing a few. 

“I have to say something,” Niall says. He pats the floor.

Liam sits down, feeling almost like he’s dealing with a child. “Yeah?”

Niall rolls over, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you kiss me last night?” He says it soft. “Y’kiss everyone when you get drunk.”

Liam looks down. “Um. Dunno.” He knows, _knows_ Niall didn't ask because he wanted him to, but he can’t help thinking it. “You do, too, but you didn’t.”

Niall laughs. “I’ve got a reason for that, though.”

Liam just looks at him, heart beating a little faster.

Niall sighs, and tugs Liam down by the shirt. “You can pretend we’re still drunk, if you want,” he says, and kisses him.

It’s--well. It’s not fireworks and rainbows. It’s an awkward angle, and Niall’s not brushed his teeth, and Liam’s shaking a little bit, leaning over him like that. 

But Christ, the small wanting sound Niall makes when Liam pulls back is everything. 

Liam laughs, soft, running a thumb over Niall’s cheek. “Not gonna pretend you’re drunk.”

Niall grins. “Good.”

There’s a knock on the door and Liam jumps up, running a hand through his hair. “We’ve got promo.” He pauses. “I know you want to go out but, um. Maybe tonight we could stay in? Just you and me.”

Again, he doesn’t mean it to sound like a come-on, and again Niall laughs as he’s standing up but there’s something there that makes Liam shiver, pull him in so he can kiss him properly. 

The knock comes again, insistent. 

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Harry shouts. “We’ve got to go now. Liam, you set eight thousand alarms on my phone and you don’t get to be late!”

Liam bites his lip and leaves, grinning at Niall. Harry mocks him all the way down to the car (“Still in yesterday’s clothes? Honestly, Payne”) but Liam finds he doesn’t mind. He winks at Niall, when they walk out, climbing in between him and Zayn. 

The interviews drag on, and Niall gets closer and closer until he’s almost in Liam’s lap, grinning wide and happy. Liam doesn’t focus on the interviews, but he can’t blame himself; he’s got a lapful of Niall, being touchy and squirmy like he hasn’t been for ages.

Really, it’s embarrassing it’s taken this long for it to hit him.

When they’ve got a break, Liam goes over to Niall, grinning. “So have you been avoiding me because you had a _crush_?” He says it a little delightedly.

Niall snorts. “Don’t fancy you. ‘m just in it for your hot bod.” He says it an exaggerated American accent, and it’s not funny at all but they collapse into giggles, just the two of them.

“For the love of god,” Louis says, rolling his eyes and marching over to them. He pitches his voice low. “I’m very glad you worked your shit out, but we’re still in public and cameras are here.”

Liam tones down his smile, catching Niall’s eye. 

*

Niall pushes Liam into his room later, locking the door. 

“So, what--” Liam starts. 

Niall shakes his head and kisses him, hard, hands gripping his arms tight. “There,” he says, pulling back. “Wanted to do it right.”

Liam’s a little dazed, and he rests his hand on Niall’s lower back, kissing him again. “Trying to prove your skills?” he teases.

Niall doesn’t answer, kissing him back. 

Liam rests his forehead against Niall’s. “I was gonna watch a film,” he says.

Niall nods, and grabs Liam’s hips, pulling him in close. “Yep.”

“And very smoothly ask to kiss you again. I’m very smooth, Niall.”

Niall laughs, lips pressed against Liam’s throat. He kisses, soft enough that Liam shivers. “I’m sure you are.”

Liam swallows, looking at him. “But fuck that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” and then Niall’s kissing him, properly, tugging on Liam’s lower lip and grabbing his arse. “Definitely, definitely.”

Liam moans, soft, and he makes his way across Niall’s throat, peppering kisses along his collarbone. 

Niall pushes Liam back, and Liam goes easily, falling back onto the bed. He pushes up Niall’s shirt, breathing shaky. 

Niall kisses him, letting the shirt fall to the side.

“God, you’re fit,” Liam whispers, running his hands along Niall’s chest. He flips them, knees on either side of Niall, and he stares down at him. He can see his dick, hard against his jeans. 

He bites his lip, unbuttoning Niall’s jeans, looking at him for confirmation. Niall nods, fast, lifting up so he can slip out of them. 

He’s awkward, at first, but then he finds a rhythm and he kisses Niall through it, swallowing his desperate moans and gasps. He digs his nails into Liam’s shoulder when he comes, choking out what could be Liam’s name, getting come all over his stomach. 

Liam laughs, grabbing the tissues and wiping him off a little clumsily. Niall stares at him, eyes dark, and kisses him hard, almost bruising.

Liam moans, can’t help it, hands gripping Niall’s hips. “Fuck,” he gasps. “Please,” and Niall doesn’t even take his jeans all the way off before he’s got a hand around him, stroking quickly, determined. 

He comes embarrassingly quickly and lies there, chest heaving. Niall winks at him, still sitting up, legs crossed. 

“Jesus,” Liam says, tugging him down for a kiss, gentle. His eyes shut, lazy. 

Niall nods, adjusting so he’s pressed up against Liam, still naked. 

Liam wriggles out of the rest of his clothes, wrinkling his nose. “Remind me to clean up later,” he says around a yawn.

Niall kisses his neck. “I’ll definitely do that,” he says, and there’s a laugh at the edge of his voice. He’s quiet for a beat. “Mrs. Horan,” he says, snickering. 

Liam shoves him. “I’ll kick you out of my bed.”

“It’s _my_ hotel room.”

“I’ll leave, then.”

“Nah, you won’t.” Niall grins, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You’re gonna stay and sleep and then in the morning you’ll order us food. How’s that sound?”

Liam grins, catching him in a kiss, eyes still shut. “Amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> can be found on tumblr @ guillotineheart and twitter @ doinwhatwedo :)))


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